


Love Song for a Vampire

by skargasm



Series: Midnight Howl Off-air [2]
Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Established Relationship, Humour, LJ Prompt, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-05
Updated: 2014-04-14
Packaged: 2018-01-14 16:25:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1273165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skargasm/pseuds/skargasm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ed calls his favourite radio show host for some advice on how to handle his vampire lover…</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So many people wanted to know what happened _after_ Stiles went off the air that I decided to see if I could come up with Midnight Howl ficlets. So, hopefully, this is where I will post the little titbits of information that don't make it into the main stories. 
> 
> The first one of these is what happens when a certain blond vampire comes to Beacon Hills because his lover is looking for some advice from one Stiles Stilinski, Radio Show host and mate to the Alpha of Beacon Hills.

“Hi, this is Stiles and you’re listening to the Midnight Howl on 185.5, Beacon Hills’ _other_ radio station. And no, you’re not hearing things, that was Requiem for a Vampire by Annie Lennox—what?! Sorry, my bad, _Love Song_ for a Vampire! It looks like the lovely Catrina has run out of werewolf songs—thank God, cos I was so dreading ‘Werewolves of London’ and now I’ve called it, she really won’t play it! Tonight you can talk about what you like but you have to give us the name of a wolf song. You’re on the air!”

Rolling his eyes at the error made by the host, Spike was about to tell Ed to turn down that bloody stupid radio show when he realised that the boy was on the phone, and judging by the feedback that was just starting to aggravate his ears **he** was the caller that was on the air. It took him thirty seconds to decide whether it was ethical or not to listen in to what Ed was saying—after all, the boy was entitled to _some_ privacy although it was difficult when he tended to be so hare-brained. He was almost as bad as Xan— Cutting off that train of thought with the ease of long practice, Spike settled down to hear as much as he could.

~ o O o ~

“You aren’t going!”

“Spike—“

“I mean it, over my dead bloody body are you flouncing off into the night to meet some Alpha’s bedmate—it just isn’t happening!”

“First of all, you are a dead body—especially first thing in the morning when it’s your turn to make breakfast. And second of all, you’re not the boss of me—if I want to drive to Beacon Hills tonight, then I’m going. And if you won’t let me use the de Soto, I shall ride my bike!”

“You bloody well won’t! That things’ a death trap!”

“So hand over the keys then.” Ed could tell that Spike was angry—hell, if the people from the radio station had been listening even slightly _they_ could hear that Spike was angry. But it wasn’t just anger—Ed could see the fear in the sharp blue eyes, fear that something would happen to him and Spike wouldn’t be able to save him. He understood, he really did but that didn’t mean he could allow it to rule his life. He wasn’t Xander—he wasn’t going to be wrapped up in cotton wool just because a one-eyed carpenter zigged when he should have zagged and broke Spike’s heart in the process. 

“Do you know anything about this _Stiles_ bloke?” Spike was waving his iPad in Ed’s direction and with a heavy sigh, he accepted it and looked at the website Spike had chosen. Ed recognised Willow’s ‘track’ programme—it enabled them to learn more about people than a simple google could do which was handy when they always seemed to be in the middle of one power struggle or another. Ed blamed Angel—he was such a brooding bastard that people got into fights just to liven things up. 

The report—trust Spike to go to Wikipedia even if it was the witchy improved version—said that his name was Stiles Stilinski, *real name not available for unreported reasons. He was the only child of Janek and Claudia Stilinski who grew up in the town of Beacon Hills. The most traumatic part of Stiles’ life was at the age of eleven when his mother died. The sheriff (Janek) fell into the bottle for a while but managed to drag himself back to the land of the living and that would have been their most boring biography if only Stiles’ best friend hadn’t gotten himself bitten by a rogue Alpha werewolf. 

From there, Stiles’ life got way more interesting. Instead of doing what any sane human would do, which was run in completely the opposite direction, Stiles took it upon himself to dig around and see if there was someone out there who could help Scott deal with his new urges. Which was how he found Derek Hale—one of only three survivors of the fire that destroyed his family home. Ed was impressed at his loyalty—it was something he admired and this Stiles seemed to have displayed it in spades. Some of the details were sketchy—obviously the person who filled in the wiki wasn’t quite inner circle—but there were details of catching the Alpha responsible for turning Scott McCall; a short section regarding an Alpha pack and a druid, followed by vague descriptions of the danger involved in something called the Nemeton. Yeah, Stiles was impressive—had to be, because somewhere in the middle of all that supernatural crap he mated with Derek Hale and took over as co-pack leader. 

Their pack was interesting—three teenagers who by all accounts went a little crazy when they were first turned before two of them mated and settled down. The third, a pretty boy with curly hair and blue eyes, looked like someone Spike would probably like to go out for a drink with. They had a banshee, some mathematical whizzkid by the name of Lydia Martin, as well as a kanima called Jackson who by some fluke was ‘mastered’ by Stilinski but free enough to go to good ole Blighty to study. McCall was still in the pack, a true Alpha by all accounts who was more than happy to act as the pack conscience and showed zero interest in any of the posturing required to be part of the Werewolf Alliance Network. McCall was also heavily involved with one of the local hunters, an Allison Argent who Ed vaguely recalled attending one of the New Watcher’s mixers where they were all supposed to be networking and sharing information but basically sat around getting pissed and trying to one-up each other with hunting stories. A fascinating pack indeed but not somewhere Spike would want Ed getting involved in even slightly. But for some reason, reading it all just made Ed more interested in meeting them all—they would understand the decisions he was needing to make, would get why sometimes it was daunting and sometimes just plain exciting. He wanted someone who wasn’t part of the old guard to talk to—someone who hadn’t been a teenager over a decade ago and just expected him to ‘stay safe’ when what he wanted was to be in the thick of it, saving Spike as much as Spike saved him, and just doing _something_.

Whether Spike had intended it or not, reading all of this had just made Ed all the more determined that he was going to Beacon Hills that night. 

“I made a tactical error didn’t I?” Ed could tell by the look on Spike’s face that he knew he wasn’t going to succeed in stopping Ed and it was a relief—he hated fighting Spike, he really did. But hearing how everyone else just knew best because they were older and had survived an apocalypse or two got old.

“You coming with?” 

“Fine. But don’t blame me if we get in trouble for it—Peaches doesn’t like werewolves as a rule so us heading straight into a pack of them is not going to do much to remove that wrinkle in the middle of his forehead.” Pleased, Ed grabbed Spike by his tight black t-shirt and yanked him into a hug, pressing what was meant to be a swift kiss onto his lips. Of course, Spike being Spike, it turned into a wrestling match between their tongues, the press of his lean body pushing Ed back until they were against the wall grinding against each other. 

“Spike—“ Ed knew he was nearly whining but he was struggling to remember just why he had kissed Spike in the first place—all he knew was that he wanted to head into the bedroom instead of risking coming in his pants against the wall. 

“Yeah, yeah, we’re going. And we’ll take the de Soto—that way, if anything happens I know we can get out of there in one piece and I’ve got somewhere to sleep if they don’t have somewhere that’s vamp friendly.” Remembering what had started things off, Ed gently pushed Spike away, reaching down to adjust his hard dick in his pants and grimacing at how close he was to just going off. If he hadn’t wanted to meet Stiles so damned much, he would have said fuck it and dropped to his knees there and then.

* * *


	2. Marking territory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek is less than pleased with Stiles' inviting strange supernaturals into their territory...
> 
> * * *

”What the hell dude?!” Stiles could barely catch his breath, arms looped around Derek’s shoulder as a stubbled chin was rubbed against his jaw. “Derek—“ He didn’t get a chance to say more, a stuttered moan all he could utter when with a fierce look at him, Derek dropped to his knees and began to wrestle his jeans open. This wasn’t something he would normally object to—hell, he was a virile young man in his early twenties with a serious hottie of a werewolf as his fiancé. This was pretty much all of his dreams come true. Just—he wasn’t used to this happening at the radio station, in a cramped bathroom and certainly not when he was expecting a visitor any minute. 

He _should_ be pushing Derek away not jutting his hips forward to facilitate the strong yank his werewolf gave to his jeans and boxer briefs that dragged them down to his knees. It would seem that his willpower was at an all-time low as he barely restrained a whooping sound as Derek sucked him all the way down to the root until Stiles could feel the back of his throat on the sensitive head of his cock.

“F-fuck!” Not exactly his finest hour vocally but he could be forgiven for that as one large hand slipped between his thighs and he could feel a thick digit working its way into his tight ass. Derek seemed determined to push all of his hotspots at once, and Derek knew **exactly** where all of them were. This wasn’t one of their slow, relaxing love-making sessions which tended to take hours—this was setting up to be a fast, ferocious fuck in the bathroom at the station and Stiles wasn’t sure he was in charge of himself enough to actually care. He stared down, meeting Derek’s gaze as his lover moved his head back and forth, mouth tight, suction strong as he devoured Stiles’ cock. That long, thick finger burrowed into him using spit and sweat to work its way inside until Derek crooked it just so and Stiles could feel his eyes rolling back in his head. Goddamn, there was no way he could hold back when Derek was like this—this was primal, almost feral; taking complete control of Stiles and the situation so that their whereabouts no longer mattered, just feeling every sensation Derek was piling onto him. 

“Come on, Stiles, I want to taste you—fuck my mouth and come down my throat!” The low muttered words, the insistent finger and the way Derek instantly returned to mouthing and sucking at his dick sent Stiles spiralling out of control until his hips were jerking spasmodically and his brain was whited out by his orgasm. 

He was still panting for breath when Derek jumped to his feet and took his mouth in a possessive kiss, shoving his tongue into Stiles’ mouth so that he was overwhelmed with his own taste. Head lolling backwards on his shoulders, he watched through bleary eyes as Derek ripped open his jeans and pulled out his dick. Hot, hard and red-tipped with furious passion, Stiles wished he could drop to his knees and return the favour but he could barely move—his arms and legs were basically goo and he was completely uncoordinated, unable to do anything to reciprocate. Derek began to rut against him, shoving his cock into the groove of Stiles’ hip whilst nipping and biting at his mouth. Slowly regaining control of his limbs, he wrapped his arm around Derek’s waist, sluggishly encouraging him. Derek shifted backwards, stroking and pulling at his dick as he shoved Stiles’ t-shirt up his chest until his belly was bare. 

“Hell, Derek, you’re not going to—“ That was as far as he got before Derek gave a muffled howl and came, splattering Stiles’ midriff with his spend in long, white streaks. “Goddamn it Derek, you aimed that on purpose!”

~ o O o ~

By the time they’d cleaned up, Derek was pretty sure that Stiles had forgiven him. He himself felt pretty loose-limbed and relaxed, in a far better mood for facing the interloper that Stiles had blithely invited into their territory.

“This t-shirt is ruined, you know that right? Of course you know—and obviously you don’t care! Not all of us live in generic t-shirts—some of us like to show some individuality and personality with our clothing choices!” Stiles was ranting under his breath as he tried to dab at the cum stains on the front of his t-shirt and Derek fought hard to hold back a smile. Despite the clean-up operation, he could very clearly smell himself all over Stiles and it made his wolf settle down and pant happily inside his skin. No mistaking who Stiles belonged to—even a human could smell what they’d been up to. 

He cocked his head, hearing the sounds of footsteps in the hallway. They were too heavy to belong to Catrina and he tensed slightly—probably Stiles’ guests then. And behind him, the strange smell of undead that wasn’t undead—nothing like a zombie which smelled like rotting flesh, but definitely not alive. It was slightly confusing for his nose—this Ed had obviously brought his vampire lover with him and it made Derek stiffen protectively. 

“This is gonna have to do—you are such an asshole!” Stiles yanked the t-shirt over his head, smoothing out the wrinkles as best he could as he scowled at the wet patches. “Come on—Ed and his partner should be due soon.” Grabbing Stiles’ hand, Derek pulled open the bathroom door and checked down the length of the corridor, frowning as his assumption was proved correct. 

The human was average build, dark floppy hair falling over his forehead, a wide smile on his face as he greeted Catrina at the office. There was nothing special about him that Derek could see and he turned to look at his companion instead. He was much shorter than Derek had expected—lean but obviously muscular beneath a black leather duster, dark denim and heavy boots on his feet. His hair dyed a radioactive bleach blond and from the angle he was looking, sharp cheekbones contrasted with a pouting pink mouth. As he stared, the vampire turned and he was captured by piercing blue eyes that were obviously assessing him as a threat in return. 

“Are you gonna let me out of here or have you developed some weird-ass bathroom fetish that I need to know about?!” Before he could prevent it, Stiles had shoved past him out of the bathroom and began to stomp down the corridor. Three long strides took him to Stiles’ side and knowing he stood no chance of stopping him, he managed to move so that he was slightly ahead, putting himself between Stiles and the other predator. He didn’t care that he was telegraphing his weakness—it was more than obvious that the best way to get to Derek was through Stiles. He saw the vampire take a discreet sniff, a smirk crossing his face as he caught their scent.

“Well, well, looks like the dog decided to mark his territory before we came to visit.” Derek felt his hackles rise at the dog comment, gratified when Stiles objected instantly.

“HEY!” 

“SPIKE!” 

“What? I didn’t mean he literally pissed on him—just covered him with other bodily fluids, lucky bastard. Told you we could have taken an extra few minutes to do the same!” Derek couldn’t stop the surprised chuckle escaping him at the less than subtle innuendo, breaking into a laugh as both Stiles and Ed turned to look at him in surprise. “Well glad to see _one_ of you has a sense of humour at least! Right, who’s a vamp gotta kill to get a decent drink around here?”

* * *


	3. Not So Different

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek and Spike do some unexpected bonding.
> 
> * * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Taming the Muse prompt is Besom
> 
> * * *

“So, you and him getting hitched?” Derek looked over at the blond vampire, still not sure why he felt so comfortable around him. By rights, his wolf should be going ballistic having such a formidable predator in its territory but there was no feeling of threat at all. 

“Sorry, what?”

“You and the Stilinski boy? Getting spliced, jumping the besom, whatever you and your pack call it.” Spike took a long drink from the bottle of beer, a small smile crossing his face. “At least you’ve got decent beer—can’t tell you how much swill I’ve been forced to consume under the guise of beer. Bloody Americans!”

“Yes we’re getting married. Next year.”

“How do you cope then? Him being human an’ all that? Doesn’t strike me as the type to sit in the background and wait for you to come home all clawed up.” Spike was outright staring at him, no subtlety at all. It was actually kind of refreshing to be faced with such bluntness—normally he only really got that from Stiles. And of course, Erica. And Lydia. Come to think of it, that might be why he was comfortable with Spike.

“No, Stiles doesn’t sit back. It is—was—a bone of contention between us for a long time. It was part of the reason we took so long to get together.” The similarities to the, ahem, more outspoken members of his pack probably explained why he could talk to the vampire in such an unguarded fashion. That, and it made a nice change to not be the ‘oldest’ monster in the room.

“Yeah, I can get behind that. Need to protect your heart but you can’t cos some bastard’s got hold of it. Enough to drive you fuckin’ mad.”

“Did you—you lost someone?”

“Not quite like you did. Heard—well researched you before we jumped in the car and came over. Read about your family. Bloody awful.” They shared a moment of silence and Derek appreciated the lack of pity—it made a change from the all too human uncomfortable feelings and responses when faced with his history. “I lost me mum when I was turned. It was all messed up—I thought, was trying to save her and—yeah, know what it’s like to feel responsible for that loss. I know the gap it leaves.” Spike took another drink, most obviously not enjoying t as much as previously. “And then there was Xander. Your Stiles reminds me of him—fast talker, full of ideas, diving into things he didn’t understand or have a chance of surviving.”

“Were you two together?”

“Kinda. Were just getting past all the labels and stuff humans put on things, getting close, you know? Then the bloody great idiot has to jump the wrong way—lack of depth perception finally caught him out—and he bloody died in my arms. To be honest, almost faced the sunlight because it was that one loss too many.” Derek nodded—he had felt similar when he found out that Laura had died but he was so relieved he hadn’t just lain down and died. It wasn’t in his nature even if sometimes the only thing he had been capable of doing was putting one foot in front of the other. “Course, Peaches dived in with his great big gob—telling me what an idiot I was and aggravating me for months with his stupid plans. Turns out most of them were a load of bollocks just to get a rise out of me but it kept me relatively sane. And then this one comes along.” Spike nodded towards Ed who was engaged in a game of pool with Stiles and Isaac. Derek followed his gaze, a soft smile touching his face as he watched the three young men interact. 

Ed and Stiles had hit it off instantly, both expressing themselves with much flailing of limbs and excited jabber. From what Derek could tell, Ed was fascinated with the Beastiary and said that someone called Willow would love the opportunity to contribute, whilst Stiles was convinced Ed would make an excellent personal adviser on all things vampire. Isaac had appeared when they returned home and the three of them had settled into playing pool and chatting like they had known each other for years. It was disconcerting but it was also relaxing—it was nice to be able to branch out without fear. Up until a year ago, they had been such a small pack that any overtures of friendship were often disguises for assessing their territory and their defences. It was only now with things so much more settled that they might be able to relax—just a little—and make friends. 

“Are you going to be able to resist him? It looks to me like he’s won even if he doesn’t know it yet.” Spike grimaced, lowering those crystal blue eyes for the first time. 

“Bloody got under my skin like a great puppy. Always underfoot, asking questions. He knows my history—knows pretty much all the bloody awful things I’ve done. But I can’t seem to shift him—not that I’ve tried all that hard. Even Peaches thinks I should just accept that Ed’s here to stay—I just—“

“Sometimes it’s difficult not to worry that everything you love is going to be taken away from you. Like it has in the past.” 

“Right.” Spike gave him an assessing look, finishing off his bottle of beer. “I guess if someone can lose their whole family—their pack—and still get up every single day and start again; fall in love with a loudmouth pesky human and risk their heart again—wouldn’t be much of a vampire if I wasn’t prepared to be just as brave now would I?”

“I wouldn’t say that—I read up a little on you two when I found out you were coming.” Derek shifted on his stool to look at Spike full on. “But, you say you and Xander didn’t get a chance because of circumstances and then things were too late. Do you really want to look back and find yourself regretting the same things with Ed?” Spike looked surprised at his statement, then more assessing. 

“You know, I think I was wrong—you and Peaches wouldn’t get on at all. You’ve got more sense in your little finger than he’s got in his great fluffy head of hair. Seems like you might get your brood on every now and then but underneath those eyebrows of your’n, there’s a brain too.” 

“Thank you—I think.”

“For a wolf, you ain’t bad. Remind me to introduce you to a friend of mine called Oz.”

“Sounds good to me.” Slightly embarrassed at giving advice to a creature over seven times his age—and that boggled his mind!—Derek looked back over at the pool game that seemed to have degenerated into rather sad attempts to perform trick shots. “Shall we show these young pups how it’s done old man?”

“OI! Less of the old! But yeah, tell ya what, me and you versus the three of them. How about it?” As Spike pushed off from the stool, Derek grabbed another bottle of beer from the small fridge and followed his new friend over to the pool table. Almost automatically, he gravitated to Stiles’ side, sliding his hand around his waist and nuzzling at the side of his head in greeting before handing Spike his new drink.

“You alright?” Stiles relaxed against his side, the familiar warmth and weight of his body against Derek’s a delicious comfort, especially as he still smelled so strongly of the two of them. 

“Yeah, I’m good. You?” 

“Yeah, all good. I was just saying to Ed, he and Spike are welcome to stay—we can chat more tomorrow.” Derek smiled and nodded. 

“Sounds good to me. But first, Spike and I thought we would teach you youngsters a thing or two about playing pool.”

“Oh yeah? Bring it on then Sourwolf.”

“Wanna make a bet? An interesting one?”

“What, like loser has to get all of those stains out of my clothes that you keep causing and creating?” Stiles gestured to the spots on his t-shirt, raising his brow at Derek. 

“I did say an interesting one. But if you don’t want me to do that thing—“

“No, no, that sounds like a good bet! Ed, you better bring your A-game—I have a lot riding on this!” Derek smiled, raising his bottle in Spike’s direction. He didn’t care if he won or lost—he had Stiles which meant he had already won. And contrary to his previous thoughts on the arrival of their guests, it looked like they had gained two new allies and potential friends. Not bad, not bad at all.

~ o o O o o ~


End file.
